It's Tradition
by Censorship is a Cancer
Summary: A Death Sentence fic. Dot Street comes back to Boston, not by choice, and runs into an old friend. Trouble arises. Check it out. R n' R, please. Make it good.
1. Chapter 1

+ C h a p t e r . o 1 ;

Dorothy Street. The hard-ass soldier kicked the wheel of her car in frustration with a huff. Stuck on the wrong side of the tracks, figuratively speaking, her car having broken down for the third time this week. She yelped as she had stubbed her toe, grunting as she had reached down to rub it through the rubber shield of her Converse sneaker. She hopped up and down slightly, thanking God that she was at least in front of a convenience store. Her cell had died, her car charger wouldn't work unless the car was running and her last hope was walking into the convenience store for a possible Big Gulp Slushy and ask the clerk for a phonebook to call a tow truck. Damn it. As much as she loved her El Camino, it was a pain in the ass. She had to get it checked out sometime. Why not now?

She puffed her bangs out of her eyes, bringing her left hand up so she could take her final drag from her American Spirit cigarette before tossing it onto the sidewalk. Her midnight blue eyes wandered over to the door of the convenience store as she shoved it open. The 5'2" Dot-of-all-trades narrowed her cerulean hues upon her surroundings, drinking in the shabbiness of the environment. She sniffed, itching the side of her nose with her gnawed fingernails of her right hand. She dropped the appendage to her side once more, crossing the threshold over to the slushy machine and grabbing a cup, filling it to the brim. She always did enjoy them. They made her happy.

Eventually, she made her way over to the counter, asking the clerk for the phone so she could call a tow truck. He had reluctantly agreed, handing her the phonebook afterwards and leading her to the back, informing her that he had to go and re-stock a few things and that he would be back.

Dotty sighed. This night couldn't get much worse. Absentmindedly, she rested her left arm over her tummy, her slender digits affectionately stroking the silver pistol within its holster. God, she loved her guns. What was better was the fact that she knew how to use them, should anything arise. She was the best shot in the US. Bring it on, she mused with a grin. Wrong side of Boston or not, she was well-protected. A woman without fear. Something uncommon around thee parts. A true soldier to the end.

-

Billy Darley knew that Dot was in town. Once he had discovered the information, he had gathered his troupe, making his journey out of their hideout and driving towards where her recognizable El Camino was last spotted. The convenience store nearest to the Four Roses. It wouldn't be missed. It couldn't be missed. Even now, speeding along the highway, venturing closer and closer to his destination by the second, his thick fingers gripped the steering wheel of his Mustang. "That fuckin' bitch…" he muttered. Joe, his younger brother, cast his gaze over to Billy, eyeing him a moment but not bothering to say anything, knowing the outcome if he decided to open his mouth.

How could Street have the gal to come back into his territory? Billy's jaw clenched. Dotty had always been rebellious and tough. She had never been afraid of anything, not even death. Hence why Billy had accepted her so easily in his gang. And then she had left. Like a flash, she was gone, nothing more than an empty chair where she used to sit or an empty space on the wall, where she used to lean.

When Billy had heard that she had disappeared, he had immediately gone out to look for her, searching the streets aimlessly. Not because he was hoping she was still there, but because he wanted to make sure she was gone. But even as the truth hit him, he had forced himself to move on painstakingly. He had forgotten her face, but not her fiery red hair that she had before she left. That and how short she was. Damn. She was a fuckin' short woman.

Coming to an abrupt stop outside the convenience store, his eyes fell on her Camino, narrowing his grey hues dangerously on the car and tossing his cigarette out of his window. "Stay here, Joe." He commanded. His brother had opened his mouth to protest, but the crazed look in Billy's eyes told him to do as his brother said. Joe shut his mouth, replying with a curt nod of his head, folding his arms over his chest and slumping in his seat as he watched Billy slide out of the Mustang, making his way inside.

"Fuckin' wrong choice, you bitch." He muttered to himself, cocking his gun and tugging the mask over his face. Surprises were always a fun thing for Billy.

-

Hearing a gunshot sounding in the front of the store, Dotty hung up the phone abruptly, tugging her pistols from their holsters and keeping her eyes immediately peeled for danger. She made her way shamelessly out into the front of the store, spotting a few men in masks, taking cash from the register, the clerk that had helped her now lying dead on the floor. "Evening boys." She cooed sadistically. All the men's guns trained on her instantly, causing her to aim her own at two of them. Her fire was swift. She could peg every one of them in a heartbeat without getting a scratch on her.

One man's gun, however, shot towards the camera that was taping everything. One of his henchmen circled the counter, pulling the tape from the machine and stomping on it, being sure that it was smashed. Dotty chuckled. "Oh, smooth. Yeah. So I'm guessing you guys are pretty much planning on taking all that money and getting the fuck out of here, huh?" She snapped, cocking her pistols and tilting her head. "What a shame."

The man, who she assumed to be the alpha male, closed in on her, wearing a black leather jacket, much like the rest of his crew. Dotty met his eyes bravely, almost shocked at the familiarity glittering within them deviously. "You think we're walkin' out of here without you, Street?" The man asked, his voice far too recognizable for Dotty's comfort. Her eyebrows hiked up to meet her hairline, her eyes wide.

"Billy?" The thug pulled off his mask, further proving her assumption. "Billy Darley." She concluded, causing Billy to glare at her viciously. Dotty returned it right back. She had reasons why she had left before. He wouldn't have understood. Of course she regretted leaving the gang behind, but at the same time, she didn't. She was now a multi-million dollar journalist. She had it made now.

"Good for you to pay us a little visit, Street. Heard you got some trouble with your fuckin' wheels." Billy replied, leaning against the wall and pulling out another cigarette, lighting it within the confines of the store, even as his men came a bit closer to listen in on their conversation. Dotty glared at him, uncocking her pistols and tucking them back into their holsters. She wasn't going to shoot them. She couldn't.

"I was passing through. Wasn't plannin' on stayin'. If you don't mind, a tow truck is coming to pick me and my car up, so y'all can get back on your own way, now." She said. Billy chuckled, shaking his head.

"How do we know you won't fuckin' rat us out, huh?" He asked, closing in on her. Dotty took a few steps back, not liking how close he was getting.

"I ain't fuckin' done it yet, have I?" She retorted. It was true. Dot had plenty of chances to rat Billy out, but she never took it. Billy could give her credit for such a thing. She was trustworthy. Somewhat.

He laughed again, cold and cruel, that laugh was. Dotty almost wanted to cringe. "You're right, Street. You ain't that bad." He had made to turn, but immediately, he had turned, scooping the tiny woman off her feet, causing her to grunt and kick and scream. "Unfortunately I'm not willing to take that chance." He added calmly, taking her out to the Mustang and shoving her into the passenger seat after forcing Joey to get into the back. He wanted to see the face of the woman who had betrayed them, betrayed his trust and his family. She was going to fuckin' pay for what she had put them through. Big time.


	2. Chapter 2

+ C h a p t e r . o 2 ;

_So lay down  
The threat is real  
When his sight  
Goes red again  
Seeing red again_

**_"Red" - Chevelle_**

* * *

Dotty had remained silent the majority of the ride to Billy's hideout, save for a few strings of curses and insults directed at him. The familiar band, The Black Angels, wound up blaring in the muscle car in order to drown her out. Billy had cast her a sneer and she had returned it with the middle finger, only making him chuckle to himself. Oh, she was going to pay for discarding him and his boys like trash. He just never thought that Dotty would be the one to toss them aside like that. But it was further proof that even the most honest woman could stab you square in the back.

Once Billy had parked the Mustang, he killed the ignition, ordering Dotty to remove herself from the passenger seat. She grumbled something else under her breath and grumpily obeyed, slamming the door shut so hard that he could've sworn he almost heard the window crack. She was strong for such a tiny woman, he'd admit that. Billy grunted as he had exited the car as well, ordering his boys to leave the premises as he lit up a smoke, seeing Dotty light one up for herself as well. Nonchalantly, he grasped her arm, ignoring her protests as he guided her roughly towards the door, yanked it open, then shoved her inside.

Dotty knocked his hands off her irritably.

"I can see my fuckin' self inside." She snapped at him. This would've caught Billy off guard if he hadn't remembered that Dotty had always been like this. Cold, distant and cruel. Just like him. Instead, he only mustered a small chuckle, receiving a harsh glare from the wee journalist. His smirk slowly left his face and he sniffed, slamming the door shut behind them, moving into the "kitchen" where they cooked their shit.

"Take a fuckin' seat." He shot at her, Dotty folded her arms over her tummy before bringing her cigarette up to her lips and taking a deep drag. She almost yanked her smoker viciously out of her mouth and blew the smoke out into his face as she hadn't budged an inch.

"I'll fuckin' stand." Billy strode closer to her, staring her down. Dotty remained unfazed, almost standing on her tiptoes to get to eye level with him. She had stopped herself. Billy knew that if he dared hit her, she'd hit him right back. Street had always been one to handle beatings and deliver them the same amount, maybe worse. Hence why she had once made such an excellent addition to his gang. She was a furious, tiny woman who never backed down, no matter how bruised and bloodied she was. She was a true fighter, through and through. Billy almost thought he saw a hint of excitement flare in those deep blue eyes at the idea of a fight with him. The right corner of his mouth twitched, itching to smirk, but he had kept his composure.

"You'll fuckin' sit." He concluded finally, giving her shoulders a hard shove and forcing Dotty into a chair directly behind her. Street puffed her bangs and forced herself back out of the chair.

"Don't fuckin' push me, Billy. Your boys might be a-fuckin'-fraid of you, but you know for a fuckin' fact that I'm not. So why the fuck you tryin' to be so fuckin' intimidating." It was more of a statement than a question, really, causing Billy's eyebrows to shoot up in interest.

"Oh? You still the fuckin' Mighty Mouse, I see."

"Get fuckin' used to it." Dotty put out her cigarette in a nearby, makeshift ashtray, then folded her arms over her chest. "So, I'm assuming you got a theme park of red fuckin' delights for me, huh?" She said, perking her eyebrows. She had abandoned the gang, her former family, her former brothers. Yes, she was going to pay. Billy had dreamt about making her pay.

And yet he couldn't bring himself to harm her. When Dotty had been around two years ago, he had protected her, taken her in, let her live with them. He had helped her get back onto her feet. She had slowly become his vice after that. Someone that he respected, but hated, but couldn't destroy if his life depended on it. He wanted to wring her neck, to punch her, to kick her, to shoot her right in the head. His body wouldn't budge an inch.

"Well, you abandoned the fuckin' boys, Dot. What the fuck would you expect?" He snapped irritably, moving to sit down across from her in a worn down arm chair. Street eyed him a moment, shifting from one foot to another. "Why the fuck did you leave, Street?" Billy asked out of the blue, his tone gruffer than before. Obviously he felt sore about the subject, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Dotty stood there a moment, sizing him up as he sat across from her, taking in the way he sat so stiffly in his chair. She tilted her head off to the side. He was ambivalent. Torn between two courses of action. Should he kill her or should he not? Should he yell and scream or should he play it cool? She inhaled deeply, then released it.

"I got a call and I got offered a job in New York. I didn't know how to fuckin' say goodbye, so I left." She shrugged. The answer was simple. To her, at least. Billy stared at her for an uncomfortably long time after that, suddenly making Dotty want to sit, but she refrained from moving at all. She hardly blinked. She wanted to keep eye contact with him. Keeping eye contact with Billy Darley was key in a situation of communication. If you broke it, he would jump to conclusions, assume lies, point fingers at everyone but himself. Dotty couldn't have that.

"You could've fuckin' told me." He suddenly snapped viciously. Dotty's eyes narrowed.

"Oh? And how would that have fuckin' gone, huh? If I had told you that I was leaving the next day to go to New York to start my new fuckin' life and that there was nothing you could do to fuckin' stop me--"

"You still could've fuckin' told me! You don't fuckin' back out on your fuckin' boys for nothin'! Even for your stupid fuckin' life!" His voice was rising now, his finger jabbing the air in her direction. Dotty clenched her jaw and shook her head, her slender digits balling into tight fists as her eyes narrowed on him. She obviously wasn't going to back down on all this. She was as determined as he was.

"Get your head outta your fuckin' ass, Darley! You honestly think that this was the fuckin' life I always dreamt of? That I wanted to be runnin' around with a fuckin' gang, poppin' bullets in the fuckin' mouths of the innocents? Nah. Not a fuckin' chance." She shook her head. "I killed enough in my initiation with your fuckin' gang, Billy. I don't kill the fuckin' innocent--" She cut herself off, clearing her throat and playing it off as something stuck in her throat. She faked a few coughs. That seemed to convince him. For now.

"Street, in a gang like ours, yah don't just fuckin' walk out! Don't matter what you're fuckin' reasons are. And you fuckin' left... even when I--" He cut himself off that time, now leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and running his thick hands over his shaved head. Dotty seemed to become furious that he had broken their eye contact. She heard a loud growl deep in his throat and she shook her head, strolling confidently over to him and smacking his hands away from his head. This caused Billy's head to shoot up and look at her.

"You what, Billy? Huh? Use your fuckin' words like a big boy here, 'cause I don't fuckin' get it!" She snapped. Within seconds, Billy was towering over her. Dotty hadn't budged an inch. She wasn't going to back down. No fear showed in her eyes. Ah, yes. He forgot. The woman without a shred of fear was standing right in front of him. "Did it ever fuckin' occur to you that--I dunno--_maybe_ I didn't know what the fuck I was leaving behind when I left Boston? Huh? Maybe I didn't know what fuckin' great boys I was leaving behind? If I had told you--"

"You should've--"

"_IF_ I had told you..." she repeated, getting rather annoyed with being interrupted. "I would've given you my new number. I would've left anyway. I would've wound up losing contact with everyone because those two years, I was swamped with fuckin' work! Ever think that maybe I fuckin' left without telling you because I just wanted you to think I did it because I was a fuckin' bitch? I wanted you to move on, Billy. I wanted to make it a little fuckin' easier for you and your precious fuckin' boys to just forget about me." She shrugged. "It's simple as fuckin' cake, Darley. I'm uh..." She scratched the back of her neck, finally breaking eye contact with him and muttering a soft apology under her breath at his chest. Billy almost hadn't heard her, but he tilted his head back and sniffed, causing the 5'2" fighter to strain her neck again, her deep blue hues connecting with piercing gray ones.

Billy had paused a moment, his expression unreadable. A long few moments passed before he had leaned in, curling his fingers around the back of her neck and pressing his forehead to hers. There it was: the proof that he had missed her, that he accepted her apology. That was more than enough for Dotty, though the immediate kiss planted on her forehead had confused her slightly. Billy pulled back and looked overtop her head at the staircase leading down to the entrance. He could hear faint motors revving in the distance. His boys were coming back from their rendezvous.

"What the--"

"Don't fuckin' mention it, D. Ever." He snapped. Dot rolled her eyes and followed at Billy's side calmly, ready to face the rest of her gang. "We still gotta re-initiate you."

"I told you, Billy, I don't fuckin' kill the inn--"

"The fuckin' innocent, I know. There ain't much innocence left nowadays, but the boys and I got a bit o'business to take fuckin' care of with "B"-Street. You down?"

"You know I can't deny a bit of thug action." Billy smirked.

"There's the fuckin' Dotty I know."

* * *


End file.
